I Forgive You
by come-to-forks-we-have-edward
Summary: Ivory- recently homeless adolescent; Amaury- lonesome vampire bored by his existence. Their lives intertwine during a masquerade ball in Paris. Ivory isn't free, but bought for an arrogant vampire. Will complications destroy any possible relationship? AU
1. Chapter 1: Prologue

**Prologue**

_**Author's not: Okay, this is my first story that hope to finish. I will need feedback for the names and such. If you have any ideas, I will be sure to work them into this story, or even starting a new story if you wish. It's your call, but this won't be a Bella and Edward story. It will include those characters if you want, but I want these to be my own characters. I'm sorry for drowning you in this note if you are reading this, but there is a main point: **_

_**DOES ANYONE HAVE SUGGESTIONS FOR NAMES?**_

Third POV

Tears ran freely down the small girl's flushed face. Shiny, brunette hair stuck to her back as the rain pelts on her black tank top. Running away from the imaginary fears that seem to plague her every step, she hides in an old, rotting cellar. Mice nibble on the ancient, cotton sacks placed on the waterlogged, putrid floor.

The perishing door unexpectedly closes, trapping the girl in a sea of unending blackness. Bright red eyes open behind her skeletal back. Something vaults near her frail body, causing her to cast out a horror filled scream. Sobbing, the girl twists around to come face to face with a pair of glowing, starving eyes. Becoming unbelievably pale, the elfin girl steps back, only to collide with the foul ground.

Taking one last look at her attacker, she whispers faintly, "I forgive you," before allowing her mind to rest in welcoming emptiness.

Vampire's POV

A deafening scream erupted from the petite girl's perfectly carved mouth when I leaped near her willowy back. My dazzling fulvous eyes impale her as she turns, sobbing forcefully. She becomes unrealistically pale, her head smashing on the ground when she treads backwards.

The last thing that I thought I would ever hear came out of her mouth.

"I forgive you," she breathe, falling limp.

There was no way that I would be able to drink from her smooth, young neck now. Picking her up, I took her to the only person that I could trust, Carlisle.


	2. Chapter 2: Tank tops, Trousers, and Tren

**Author's note: Here is the next chapter! I am very excited to see what you will think of the actual story. So, for me to know your opinion, you will have to comment. I'm not sure what the length of this will be, so I'm hoping that the amount of words I have written pleases you. Those of you who don't write fan fiction have no idea how long it takes to type and come up with each chapter. The point of this authors note is to ask you to review and to give me some, any, ideas. I'm running on absolutely nothing right now. Thanks, and enjoy!**

Chapter One

Girl's POV

I studied the children as they frolicked with their ardent parents. The look of love in their ageless eyes was clear, as they laughed at each other unflinching.

Yearning for that kind of release, I leaned closer, wishing that my underdeveloped ears could hear more of their careless bliss. I wonder if I was ever able to laugh as incautiously as the souls below me.

A cruel wind stormed toward me, nearly knocking me over from me branch in the colossal chestnut tree that I was perched on. Sable clouds proceeded toward the immense park, causing the parents to secure their doleful offspring into whatever vehicle escorted them here. As the abstruse clouds neared, less and less bodies could be seen, and the sound of laughter was a ghost of a whisper.

A blast of flashing lightning materialized before briskly vanishing. Thundering resonated soon afterwards.

Rain commenced, rapidly veiling me with biting water. The harsh winds picked up once more, chilling me further. Looking up once again, I saw that the once deep, unending, blue sky has now changed into an ebony cloak, hungrily swallowing everything below it.

Ascending from my stealthy hiding place, I regarded delightfully that the moon wasn't out. It was just I, the old cobblestone road, and whatever object decided to place themselves near the lane.

My doddering, inky oxfords stricked the cobblestone, forging a rhythm clear as fresh water. The slim-legged trousers clung to my limbs in a coarse, undignified way. The swaying sound that most people would identify as two wool clad thighs rubbing against each other wasn't heard because my legs were too malnourished and thin to even dream of fabricating a noise identical to that of a healthy adolesent's.

My clothing was very simple, nothing even close to noteworthy: black, sullied oxfords, a pair of once-white, now brown ankle socks, pinstripe, ill-fitting trousers, a black, foul undershirt that some would dub a tank top, and an oversized, ratty trench coat that was made by an individual by the name of Marc Jacobs.

Many mistake me for a beggar, not that I'd blame them; I was an awfully impecunious-looking fifteen year old.

As I strolled down the fragmented street with what should have been grace, I noticed an odd whisper somewhere beside me. I couldn't pinpoint where it was coming from, but if I were told to guess, I would most likely say that was to the southeast of me.

It also wasn't a constant whisper; it was unsystematically hissing my name in a velvety, smooth, but terrorizing voice.

"_Ivory…Ivory Alayna……….Ivory………..Ivory…"_

The hauntingly beautiful voice was becoming even more jolting with every vowel and syllable that escaped those emotive lips. I searched around in the pitch-black night, but not once did I see or come across anything that could make such an alluring voice.

Roaming further into the night, I didn't have a watch to tell me what hour it was, the need for rest was creeping into my mind. Observing the area, I decided to once allow myself the pleasure of a few hours of sleep. Finding a marshy, supple area of grass, I laid down, smiling at the prospect of any amount of time to let my senses drift away.

"_Ivory…………………..Ivory…" _was the last thing that I remember gracing my budding ears as I feel into a much needed and welcomed place of peace.


	3. Chapter 3: Oak Bench

**AN: this is more of a filler chapter that I came up with in Gym yesterday. More of it was written a few minutes ago, so I hope that it makes enough sense to be understandable. By the way, am I the only one that got bitten by a few million mosquitoes, today? Review! **

**Chapter Two**

**THIRD POV**

**He sat crouching in fetal position, listening to the conversations bubbling amongst him. The aged, oak bench felt hard, pushing and forcing itself into his bony hips, creating an uncomfortable sensation for the bench. The pressure didn't bother him in any means what so ever.**

**Looking up through his permanently overgrown bangs, he observed the people surrounding him. They were vampires, of course; he wasn't nearly strong enough to resist live humans at this point in his everlasting, eternal existence. **

**Vampire's POV**

**The vampires belong to a coven: the Cullen family, they called themselves. What a strange feeling it was to be part of a family. Although the Cullens consider me a part of their family, I feel like something, or rather someone, is missing. **

**An argument commenced between two out of the eight family members. Alice, an elfin, pixie-like creature, was shouting unrecognizable, inappropriate words at Rosalie, who in turn was doing the same. **

**My blackish- brown bangs once more got into my eyes, causing me to mutely shift them. The argument toned down when Edward, a vampire much younger than I, showed up ****after observing his precious Isabella slumber. I was told to call her Bella, but that in my day was considered a sin. Like Jasper, I remember my upbringings and origin perfectly. For most vampires, that would be a granted wish, but for me, it's a curse of exceptional eminence. **

**Closing my implausibly long-lashed eyes, I mentally traveled through time without moving a millimeter, the memories as clear as they ever were. My least and most favorite part of being a bloodsucker: the unpalatable memory. You can't get away from it; no matter how much you covet to forget, your amaranthine memory won't acquiesce you to.**

**The children: innocent, beautiful, angelic children, forever gone because of a doltish mistake, one that I can't abrogate.**

**There is no way that I would ever be able to overlook it; it's forever etched into my infinite recollection of memories.**

**Other memories, such as myriad birthday parties or diurnal teatime with my family were appreciated. I would loathe being Alice, not remembering a single moment of my human life.**

**I rose from my oak bench, ambling toward a swinging couch-like seat. Gingerly lowering my almost lanky form onto the farthest left of the black, floral settee, I swung gently, the lukewarm breeze caressing my designer clothing. Jasper trudged near and sat half of a solid, black upholstered cushion from me. **

**I tried to force the thoughts of the helpless children out of my mind, but I had no luck.**

**Words aren't used when others come near me; they know that I am in most forms of the word, mute. I began to sway swiftly, savoring the insouciant gust. I was prolonging the mental and emotional conversation before me that I was cognizant of. No matter what, I wouldn't be having ANY conversations about this!**

**AU: I am actually very disappointed with how this chapter was written. I wrote it on two different days, so it included two different ideas. I am sorry, and I hope that the next one won't be as disappointing or filling.**

**Thanks and Review!**


	4. Chapter 4: Attenuated

Author's Note: This was supposed to be the first chapter of a new story, but I didn't want two stories going on at once. Sorry, but I couldn't update yesterday. I was bombed with homework and finals. I edited the last chapter- the girl is now 15 years old. Sorry if it confuses you, it makes it easier to write the story. **What age** **should the vampire be (must be over 17 though)?**

Disclaimer: I do not own anything in this story that can be recognized by the public. This goes for the entire story.

Chapter Four:

Ivory's POV

I was disoriented when I awoke; I could vaguely remember the fact I feel asleep on a plat of grass. Looking around, I could conclude that the area below me was, indeed, not a plot of grass. It was a bed: a great, silken, soothing, midnight black onyx colored four-poster bed. I could scarcely recall the last time that I was gifted with the luxury of sleeping on a cushioned ground, or in this case, a bed.

I was homeless; it happened a short while ago. I could remember the times that I had almost everything that I could have ever dreamed of.

**Flashback- Age 12**

_I looked down, fiddling with the hem of my peach, silk dress. I looked around, surveying the profiles of the people around me. I sat alone, giggling at my own inside jokes, no one understood them, so I stopped sharing them. It was rare to find anyone paying me any mind. People have crushes on me, but that's only because they are curious as to why I choose to be an outcast. The populars, as I have dubbed them, finally looked at me. It must be quite a sight: a skinny, tall girl sitting all alone, writing in a tiny, blue, paper notebook with a borrowed pen, not eating. _

_Great, now I'm an anorexic outcast.  I thought to myself._

_They began laughing, undoubtedly making jokes. I turn away, glaring at their open immaturity._

_The wind picks up, whipping my chestnut hair into my oval shaped face. Giving up after a few, failed attempts at taming it, I allow it to do as it pleases._

_A crowd emerges, encircling me with loud, abrupt, mindless chatter._

_They know nothing about me, but they call themselves my friends. They don't care how I truly feel, so if they ask, I answer with the overly used "I'm fine."_

_Most people have two sides: an inside and an outside. I have more than that. I have a depressed side, a hyperactive side, even a suicidal side. There are too many to count. _

_My outer side, the fake one, is optimistic and hyper, slightly bipolar but not in a dangerous way. It was in a playful," you never know what will happen next" way. That side loved the rain but hated getting her perfectly groomed hair wet. She wore designer clothes, always looking ready for a photo shoot. The other sides loved old fashion dresses and jackets, but it was rare for them to see the light of day. It would be dangerous for anyone to learn of them._

_The outer side ruled my life, and no one knew about it but me; I feel so isolated and strangled. I hope that one day, that will change for the better._

I could clearly remember my so-called friends. The only friend that is truly your friend is your soul mate, but scarcely are you unite with him or her.

My best friend is myself: she is always there when I need someone to talk to, she knows exactly what I like and dislike, and she has never missed an important date or time in my life. Never has she hurt me. There is no peer pressure, no pushing me in the wrong direction. She wants only what it best for me. She is like the mom that every daughter wants.

My mom wasn't like that though. Sure I had food, clothes, and shelter, but that wasn't enough. I needed love, something that I deprived of. I remember a few times when that was the only thing that would have been able help me.

**Flashback- 14 years old**

_Her porch swing was her haven. It would rock her back and forth like a mother would rock her newborn child. Gently, softly, cautiously. There was no one to rock her like that now._

_So, for now she would lean back, clothed in ballet flats and a navy polo dress with an opened notebook and pencil in her lap, and swing._

_Music was playing, "Your Guardian Angel" by Red Jumpsuit Apparatus, a song that she wished she had someone to sing to her. It was on repeat._

_Rain gently splattered on her thin, endless legs and Coach brand brown shoes. The shoes must have cost at least one hundred dollars, but she didn't care. They could dry._

_She could hear the rain falling dulcetly on the covering of the swing. She didn't mind getting wet._

_Standing up and leaning over, she takes one of the two slim, black ponytail holders off of her left hand and places her longish, thick mahogany oak hair into a stylishly sloppy bun, leaving out her nose length bangs._

_They got into her eyes, but it didn't bother her. She was happy that something was able to remind her that she was human and able to feel emotions._

_She lifts her feet, the swing objecting to her weight. She was one hundred and twenty pound and five foot nine. Medically speaking, she was underweight, but she wouldn't have it any other way._

_She looked down at her bare legs; they were scarred. Her poor circulation was the cause of this. She wasn't able to heal well either. Looking at her, you would see a willowy, almost emaciated, attenuated adolescent, her body perfect, her skin flawed. That didn't matter to her. Long ago, she stopped caring about what others thought about the body she is trapped inside._

**AU: Six pages and 1021 words!!!!! Did you like it? Any thoughts would be helpful. Thanks and review, please!**


	5. Chapter 5: Mind and Thoughts

AN: This chapter is for finger craker and her awesomely fabulous review.

Finger craker,

It's not your fault; my plate has been full, and the brain doesn't function well on three hours of sleep. I was rash and not thinking about my reader's feelings when I made that post. I'm going to replace it once I finish this chapter and post it. By the way, the vampire isn't mute. Thank you for your wonderful suggestion (that's how Esme met Carlisle!)

Chapter Five

Vampire POV

I sat tranquilly on my bleu, French rug inside of the middling room that was elegantly decorated to call my own. I wasn't able to avoid the so-called "conversation" with the Cullens, so now I have all of the possible outcomes that would come with not having the conversation running wild through my mind.

We thoroughly discussed the probable locations for our next home. According to Alice and Edward, the people of London were beginning to get suspicious about how we don't age. There were quite a few odd theories going around. I must admit that my personal favorite is the one where we are gods and goddesses sent by Jesus to bring him the "next baby Jesus." Who thought of that, I don't know, but titanic kudos to them. How they got to that conclusion, again, I don't know, but it really doesn't matter all that much.

So, because of the baby Jesus rumor, we are forced to move away before we are accused of being angels that are to eat London's supply of fish and chips. Like that will happen any time when we're here.

The other teenage Cullens were previously enrolled in the local private college; Holborn, I believe it is called. Isabella majored in English literature, along with Edward, who did the same. Alice wanted to learn more about the animals that we choose to feed on, so she chose the only available zoology course. Jasper was working on a degree in US History. Emmett, being Emmett, decided to become a meteorologist. When he was questioned as to why he choose that particular path, he simply replied with a shrug and explained that not knowing what the little lines on the radar meant was driving him crazy. Rosalie didn't want to waste this chance to go to college, so she chose biology and trigonometry. Apparently, this wasn't a smart, educated selection. I didn't covet any more knowledge, because there wasn't anymore to absorb for me. My gift was that cause of my decision to not continue the schooling that was abruptly cut off be my hollowing change.

I was to be a psychiatrist: the first in my tender, human family. That dream didn't last long because the gift that I possess enables me to know anything and everything about whatever subject or person in the universe. Becoming a psychiatrist would be an arrant waste of my eternal existence.

We, the Cullens and I, will in the near future, or so Alice predicts, move to Brest, France. With my gift, I knew that it was another small, humid, rainy, town. Not feeling the need to have any additional information about the place that will host a family of nine vampires, I simply agreed mentally.

I wasn't enlivened with the postulation of moving to a place with the name of Brest, but Emmett on the other hand, was having an exceptionally merry time jesting about the name of our soon-to-be temporary home.

So here I sit, actively thinking about the outcome of the expected, and in some cases, humorous move to Brest, France. There surely will be stare and plenty of questions but aren't there always? I'm not sure if Esme and Carlisle will feel that it is necessary for me to attend the institution for learning that the others will be going to.

The Cullens believe that I am mute, for they haven't ever witnessed me utter a single syllable. I am not mute in any form of the word, but I favor to not speak. Why? I can't answer that question because I honestly haven't figured it out myself. It must be instinctual or maybe a way to protect myself and my sparse gift from others.

A tranquilizing candle steadily burns, emitting a calming, soft scent throughout the air inside of the four, dark grey walls surrounding the old fashion black hickory wood, sleigh bed placed in the left corner of the medium size bedroom. I don't use it in the same ways that the others use their beds, but a bed is a superb place to lay and read. The mound of silk sheets and pillows are sure to happily welcome the occasional passerby with their white silk texture and soothing façade.

I kept sitting there, on the dark blue rug, thinking about everything and anything, knowing that my thoughts aren't available for viewing by Edward; I wasn't concerned about the places that my mind wondered off to. The amount of time passing wasn't pivotal; I have an eternity to waste, and there's not much to waste it on. This must be the way that I will spend the rest of my long, endless existence: alone, angst, and missing a part of me that I can't seem to locate.

AN: This is not my favorite chapter that I have ever written, but, as I mentioned above, I was inspired. In a few chapters, Ivory will meet the vampire, whose name I have chosen. I still need those reviews, though, so for the next chapter to be born, there needs to be at least ten reviews. Thank you and please review!!!!!!

-Anna aka CTFWHE


	6. Chapter 6: Mindful Memories

AN: Sorry for the delay; this chapter was written a few days ago, but I didn't feel like typing it. All of my stories have two to three drafts, so they are time consuming. The vampire and Ivory will soon meet. The outfits for the story will be in my profile and down at the bottom of this chapter.

_**The reason that the vampire was calling Ivory small and young was because compared to him she is miniscule. Although she is tall, she is 5'9" and he is 6'5", so that is an eight-inch difference.**_

**Chapter Six: Mindful Memories**

**Vampire POV**

**Headache; splitting, paralyzing headache. **

**Screams, burning; fire. Cold air nipping at skin. Not refreshing, soothing, but chilling, adding to the pain. **

**Visions fly; soar, inside of eyelids. Eyes roll back, to the back of heads. **

**Whispers turning into blood churning cries, anger, red hate. Imperfection and deforms into beauty, breathtaking allure.**

**The Change. No deformations, ugly, imperfection, love, whispers, refreshing air, or kind relief. Only pain, fire, burning, tearing, biting, screams, anger, hatred, beauty, and speechless perfection.**

"**Amaury…Help!" Even more multiplying pain went along with the vehement speaking.**

"**Please, we'll help him; just allow us to take care of him. We know we're doing," a velvet voice delicately spoke. (Not the Cullens)**

**Sobs erupted from the speaker's throat, but she thankfully replied, " Thank you, thank you so much." **

**More talking went on; I was too far into the pain to care about what was said. **

**After what could have been minutes, seconds, or even days later, the voices halted.**

**I felt someone strong, their body marble, pick me up gently. The frosty skin soothing me, temporarily. He, I concluded that this person was male because of the lack of assets, walked smoothly; I felt none of the bumps or ridges of the aged cobblestone road.**

**The person holding me made his burly chest rumble. It didn't feel like the kind of vibrations from hunger; it was one of speech. I couldn't hear quite well at the moment, but even if I were able to hear properly, their conversation would be too muted and brisk for me to even comprehend a single syllable of it.**

**An audible voice questioned me; the pain was too unmanageable for me to comprehend the words.**

**I faded into a pitch-black room: no windows, furniture, people, or thought in sight. The voices seceded to surround me.**

**Finally.**

**Ivory POV**

**Forgetting my surroundings, I was pulled into my mind once more.**

_**I'm wrong, always wrong. No matter what I do, it's never good enough.**_

"_**Do this, do that. No, you didn't do it correctly! Do it right!"**_

"_**I'm sorry," I always murmur.**_

"_**Sorry isn't good enough. Do it my way!"**_

_**I wondered why he didn't he just do it himself. That wonder didn't last long, for I knew that he wasn't physically able to. He thinks that he's all that, that he knows EVERYTHING. Smarta****_

_**I hate him. My life was perfect before him. Why is he around, and who is he, you question internally. He is the reason for my misery. People like his money, but I believe that it is sick to like a person for the amount of green pieces of paper that they have stuffed in their sock. Pitiful, those people are. Materialistic, pitiful people. **_

_**I hate him with every fiber of my being. Every cell, every hair, every spot of moisture, every little part of me. Ignorant pig. Will he ever learn? I bet that he won't. **_

_**Selfish people never have many attendees at their funerals.**_

**Amaury POV**

**The candle has long since burned out. The thin stream of white, pure smoke already traveled up past the many air molecules. I have though about many things in the past time frame. I don't know how long I've been sitting. Apparently a week, according to Isabella. In some ways, my gift is helpful when I am too lazy to figure out things for myself. It requires little to none of my bottomless supply of energy. **

**There is a name for my gift: Omniscience. I have both inherent omniscience and total omniscience. Inherent omniscience is the ability to know anything that one chooses to know and can be known, according to wikipedia. Total omniscience is knowing everything that can be known. **

**I can choose when to use my power and when to turn it off. Most vampires, like Edward, Alice, and Jasper, can't turn off their gifts. Isabella and I have what's like a mental switch and are able to turn off our gift. She can't fully turn her's off, but it's close enough. **

**Omniscience is a gift in some ways, but the way that it curses me is worse. Have I ever wished the gift away? Of course, haven't we all hated the part of ourselves that makes us different from the others around us? If there is a person out there that hasn't, I could give you the answer to that, then I applaud them. They have resisted a strong part of humanity, one that little are able to ignore and don't surrender to. **

**I was barely ever the center of attention. Like Isabella, I wanted to keep it that way. I'm not overly clumsy, or as clumsy as a vampire can get, but every once in a while, I do drop one thing or another. **

**I'm quiet; me being mute is often assumed. I don't feel the need to fill every moment with pointless chatter. In fact, I prefer silence. No noises, no distractions, just time alone with your soul. Connecting yourself with your soul. I believe that we have souls. I **_**know **_**that we have souls.**

**I was brought out of my thoughts abruptly by a graceful, dancing pixie by the name of Mary Alice. **

"**Hey, how are you today? I haven't seen you in a few days," she questioned, not expecting me to answer. Peering up at her, I noticed that she went shopping again. I know that one day she will use up all of her ****money, but I don't believe in withdrawing her fun, so I didn't mention it.**

**We spoke through our eyes. She would sometimes, like now for instance, verbalize aloud to get my attention. **

**She told me that we were about to move to Brest; I chuckled mentally at the name. Just because I didn't talk and was old doesn't mean that I don't have a sense of humor. **

"**We're about to pack up your room, so could you please go and shower?" Mary Alice inquired.**

**I nodded, holding out my pale arm for her to drop the chosen clothing onto. She gave me a black, short-sleeve t-shirt along with a pair of black slim-cut jeans. The shoes were black tennis shoes. **

_**What's with all of the black?**_ **I thought. There were no socks because, for some unknown reason I didn't like them.**

**I showered, dried off, and put on the clothing provided. Although I wasn't a vain person, even I knew that the black clothing make me seem more attractive that usual. Thinking unesotericly, I thought that I looked like I was ready to rob some important building or go and kidnap an unsuspecting moral. **

**Stepping out of the comfortably sized bathroom and waltzing into my bedroom, I wondered what "fashionable accessory" Mary Alice would place on me this time. **

**The bubbly, gay pixie smile a wide, ear to ear grin, placing a pair of Dior sunglasses onto my nose with my help. Her 4'11" figure was dwarfed by my 6'5" towering stance. **

**The rest of the Cullen family had finished packing up all of the paraphernalia in my room, Edward handing me my iPod. It was the newest edition available, of course. I loved my music as much as the next person. Green Day played on the black and sliver, slim devise. I sang along with the lyrics mentally, my head bobbling in time with the beat of the angst music.**

I walk this empty street

On the Boulevard of Broken Dreams

Where the city sleeps

And I'm the only one and I walk alone

I walk alone

I walk alone

I walk alone

I walk a...

My shadow's the only one that walks beside me

My shallow heart's the only thing that's beating

Sometimes I wish someone out there would find me

'Till then I walk alone

**I think that I'll try and convince Green Day to change the name of this lovely song that perfectly describes my existence. I wonder what my chances will be. **

**I was aware that all of the others were able to hear the lyrics of the song and were worried about me. Esme had a look of pain on her forever-young face, so I presented her a small, shy smile. She was no longer distressed, knowing that my smiles were rare and not frequent. To further please the kind woman that chose to care for me, I switched the song to an acoustic, calming one. I wasn't sure who sang it, but I didn't want to know. Sometimes, you have to let information come to you naturally. **

**We all got into our self assigned cars. Mary Alice and Jasper were in Mary Alice's yellow Porsche, Esme and Carlisle in the Mercedes, Rosalie and Emmett in the Jeep, and Isabella and Edward in the Volvo. I was in my own car, a Honda FC Hydrogen Car. **

**It wasn't as expensive as the others', but I didn't want to spent half a million dollars on it. It was perfect for me. The white paint, slick exterior, and luxurious seating was me exactly. I will admit; I love my car.**

**Traveling to Brest wasn't a problem. It was about a two-day's drive for us, but we have time. **

**I anticipate that there will be a new way to spend mine; I feel as if I'm abusing the time that I am allowed on this planet.**

**Ivory POV**

**The black, dense door unlocked, revealing a figure clad in a bloody-red cloak, the kind that chills you to the bone in pure and untamed fear.**

**The woman, who was utterly beautiful, glared, looking upon me with eyes, the same color as the cloak that was draped on her blinding-white shoulders. A black, strapless dress hid her body from the eyes of the people around her. It's hem brushing the smooth, charcoal floor. She gracefully removed the hood, allowing her pin-straight, flaming red hair to tumble around her bony, angular face. There were no physical imperfections of any kind. **

**I was speechless, self-conscious to the point of wishing to be invisible, and mortified. **

_**Where am I? Who is this? Why am I here?**_

**My mind was too stressed; the pressure placed upon it was deadly. Unable to do anything but stare, I lied gaping at the supermodel that decided to pay me a visit.**

**Finally locating my voice, I hesitantly and weakly questioned,**

"**Who are you?" My heart felt as if it would give out soon; it was beating too fast. **

**Unaffected by my tone, she answered in the most heart wrenchingly beautiful that I have ever heard in my life, "I am Calida; you are here because the heiress requested for your attendance tonight." **

_**The heiress?!? Who in their right mind would want to know me, let alone request my attendance for anything?**_

"**Why?" I inquired. "Why me?" clarifying my question.**

**Without missing a beat, Calida responded," She would like for someone to meet you. That person asked for you and you alone. Come, now. You must become properly groomed."**

**She swiftly stepped out of the must too large room, causing me to gasp and follow her unsteadily. **

**She led me through an expensively decorated hallway; it's walls housing magnificent, breathtaking artwork. I didn't dare to ask questions, her killer eyes embedded into my mind.**

**We stop abruptly at a black and creamy white door. Calida motions for me to go inside first. The wooden door opened to a bathroom, about half of the size of the bedroom that I was just inside. It was fully equipped with an open shower, a claw legged porcelain bathtub, multiple sinks, a vanity, and every beauty product that I have ever heard of and more. **

"**Take a shower or a bath, wash your hair with the cucumber volumising shampoo, your body with the body wash in the green bottle, and wrap yourself in the light green towels that are under the sink closest to the vanity. I will be back in forty-five minutes to cut and style your hair. Paris will be here shortly afterwards to do your nails. Benjamin will be the makeup artist doing your makeup. Anna will be placing the final touches on you and helping you into your dress. Any questions?" Calida waited a few seconds before turning and repeating, "Forty-five minutes, Ivory."**

_**How the hell did she know my name?!?**_

**I am quite sure that I look like a fish currently, gapping at the now closed door. **

**Still slightly in shock, I did as she commanded. I took out the towel from under the sink and placed it beside the bathtub. I ran the water, pouring a fraction of the body wash into the flawless tub. Bubbles quickly filled the area inside of the porcelain heaven. **

**I looked in the mirror after I removed my soiled clothing. The girl staring back at me was ugly. She was too thin, her bones sticking out, piercing her pale, blemished skin. Her hair was thick: an unruly mess that hasn't been combed or cut in months, reaching the middle of her willowy arms in length. It overpowered her, even though it was flat and greasy. Her face had imperfections along every inch of it. She had a beautiful, ideal bone structure, but it was too profound. Her nails were overgrown but clean, a feat for a homeless adolescent. My teeth were spotless; they were whitened weekly before I became homeless. Apparently the color remained, not that I was complaining. **

**Tired of looking at my disappointing, unappealing reflection, I climbed into the now full bathtub, the water too hot but pleasantly so. Leaning back, I got my hair wet and washed it thoroughly, applying shampoo and rinsing it many times. The sponge and body wash felt like a dream. All too soon, the water became nippy, signaling me to release the grimy water and towel myself off.**

**All that was left was a clean, cucumber scent and a sterile Ivory. I wrapped the satiny towel around me and waited like Calida requested. It was a short wait, I knew, but it felt like forever. The door glided open, and in came Calida with a bag filled with God knows what.**

_**Let the beautifying begin. **_**I thought, surrendering mentally.**

AN: Did you like it? I finally came up with a plot, yup this late into the story, and it has three different ending for me to chose from. I don't think that you'll be able to guess, though. I hope that this is long enough.

**Love, Peace, and Review Please.**

**-Anna aka CTFWHE**

**PS: **The play list is up, and there are pictures below. Just copy and paste them, please.

Amaury's black shirt-

Amaury's jeans-  
.com/files/product_color/main/56648/_DSC0171_

Amaury's shoes-

Amaury's sunglasses-  
./perfume/images/Authentic%20Dior%20Sunglasses%20Black%20Tie%

Ivory's pants-  
.com/media/230x230/Forever21-pinstripe-pants_

Ivory's jacket-  
.com/#lookId=1&folder=/marcbymarcjacobs/women/fallwinter09/readytowear&  
(In black)

Ivory's tank top-

Ivory's shoes-  
.com/images1/pi/3a/84/0d/39015306-250x250-0-0_Eastland+Shoes+Eastland+Women+s+  
(In black)

Amaury's Car-

Bathroom-

(Imagine with claw foot tub)

Bedroom- Ivory's-

.com/images/Kavanagh-Day/luxury-masterbedroom2_

**Six and a half hours! How do authors do this?!?**


	7. Chapter 7: Dark & Key

AN: I didn't really want to write this chapter, but something pushed me toward writing it. My full heart wasn't in it, there were too many interruptions, and I was very emotional. I was on an emotional rollercoaster and couldn't even remember my characters' names. I still have the plot, but my brain is jumbled right now. I'm sorry if you don't like it. I have a tornado in my mind, and it's destruction path left me with no ideas.

AN:EDITED THANKS TO FINGER CRAKER AND HER AWESOME FRENCH KNOWLEDGE. SORRT FOR ANY INCONVENIENCE IF YOU READ IT AGAIN; THE CHAPTER IS JUST REPLACED. AGAIN, THANKS AND REVIEW! :)

If anyone has ever had a migraine, they would know how you don't care about anything other that making the pain go away, let alone going to get their french book and looking up some words. Sorry, but at that time, I didn't care.

**Chapter 7: Dark & Key**

Ivory POV

Calida walked, no, waltzed toward my wet, towel-clothed form. Closely inspecting my hair and skin without actually touching me physically, she concluded that I'd done a passable job of bathing.

Quietly pulling out a chair, she silently instructed for me to sit down. The beauty shop-style chair rotated once I sat down, turning away from the vanity's mirror. I fidgeted when my sight got abruptly stolen.

Calida turned off the lights.

Shaking, I queried, "Can you see what you're doing in the dark?" All that I got in return was a ghostly chuckle and gentle tugging at my scalp.

Sighing in defeat once I registered that even with my eyes adjusted to the dark, I still wasn't able to see anything; I closed my eyes.

Calida POV

Hearing Ivory's sigh and eyes fluttering closed, I beamed, snipping away at the beautiful, moist earth-toned hair that grows on her head.

_Layers would be good; her hair is thick, and it would bring out the fullness and natural volume. Her bangs need to be trimmed; they're too long and shapeless. A few inches below her shoulders would be the ideal length. She's thin, and this would bring out how fragile and breakable she is. **He **doesn't like them to look strong. It's all the more fun for **him**._

I continued expertly cutting her hair until it was what I wanted. I circled her, examining her hair at all angles to see if all of the cuts were as perfect and precise as I thought them to be.

Seeing no mistakes, I was satisfied with the outcome. Glancing at my overpriced wristwatch, I read that ten minutes had passed.

"I'm finished cutting your hair; time to style it", I murmured, not wanting to break the comfortable silence that formed while I was trimming Ivory's locks.

She nodded slightly, trying to not mess up my hard work in any way.

For that, I was grateful.

Ivory POV

I tried to think about anything other than the woman cutting my hair and what she was doing to it. Avoiding that, my thoughts steered me to the topic of "her heiress".

_Weren't they usually called "her highness"? _

_Who was she?_

Thoughts about her plagued my brain like the Black Death plagued Europe.

That thought brought on a whole new idea, and with that idea came new thoughts.

_What was the plague called then?_

_Where there any people truly immune to it?_

_What if it happened again?_

My thoughts started out this way, but soon began spiraling toward a more dangerous and dark part of my mind: the part that was usually closed and kept under mental lock and key.

_What if I'm carrying the virus that'll become the next epidemic to strike and kill millions?_

_Does that mean that I should die before it can begin to spread and take lives?_

_It would be funny to put __**that **__idea into my suicide note._

I felt heat near my head; tugging bringing me out of my thoughts.

_Probably a curling iron. _ I thought, my eyes still closed to avoid the eerie black around me physically. The darkness of my mind is more comfortable.

Sharp, long nails ran through my hair, tenderly scratching my scalp, causing me to elude a low, embarrassing moan. I was putty when someone ran their hands through my hair and massaged my delicate scalp.

Calida muttered something but kept styling my large mass of hair.

The cold skin stretching over her strong bones was soothing as it calmed my overheated head.

A breeze began momentarily after I mentally mentioned the heat, cooling me promptly and thoroughly.

"Done!" Calida exclaimed, her wide grim apparent in her musical voice.

"May I see?" I said, using what I hoped was a curious but cautious tone, not sounding like a four year old.

"Not until Anna puts you in your dress, Ivory," Calida answered, still pleased about the way my hair is, I assumed.

"Bonjour, ma belle! I'm here to do someone's nails, if I am correct. Is there a Mademoiselle Ivory in the room?" exclaimed a male's silky voice, drowning in a rich French accent.

I giggled softly at the charmer along with Calida, who was laughing at a higher decibel than I. I decided to show off my French skills to the obvious France native.

"Oui! C'est moi. Bonjour, Monsieur. Je m'appelle Ivory; Comment vous appellez-vous?" I questioned, my voice barely wavering.

"Vous parlez francais?" He asked. I deduce that he was raising an eyebrow at me.

"Oui"

"Je m'appelle Paris" I smiled, fond of his name.

"Commençons-nous?"

"Naturellement," Paris replied, eager to do my nails. That, or he was eager to talk more. I presumed that it was the former.

Time passed. I could feel Paris cleaning my nails, prepping them for the nail polish that will surely follow. He was most likely now pushing my cuticles back, by the feel of it. The motion was relaxing, but music would perfect the experience.

A snap sounded, probably the doing of Paris' fingers. Classical music began to play; not Clair de Lune or anything remotely familiar like Mozart, but a newer, fresher composition.

"Do you know the name of this classical piece, Paris?" voicing my thoughts, I inquired.

"'River Flows in You,'" Paris happily rejoinder, still cleaning my nails.

_Was he always this happy?_

At the end of the song, Paris questioned me, "Because Calida didn't mention what color she wanted on you, you may chose from these five colors of nail styles that would match the dress. Which do you want?"

"Shouldn't I be able to see them?"

"How about you just say a number one through five, and I'll tell you what you picked. Is that alright with you?"

_I wonder what would happen if I said no._

"That's fine; I choose…two."

"Perfect selection"

Paris didn't tell me the color until he finished applying it onto my nails.

"Ivory, your choice was Vendetta by Chanel, my favorite of the five, and it looks great, if I may say so myself."

"Thank you," I replied, knowing that I wouldn't be seeing my nails until later on.

_Wait, doesn't vendetta mean revenge or something along those lines? Confusing…_

"'Ello pet, I am Benjamin. Let's not dilly dally and start", Benjamin said with an awesome Australian accent.

_What is it with these people and their accents?_

"Alright, Benjamin"

"Pet, call me Ben. What I want for you to do is to drape the blanket over you and lean back carefully. I'll catch you," Ben calmly insists.

"_I'll catch you"?!?! What does that mean?_

Trusting Ben, I did as told. Frozen, stone arms caught me, wrapping me further in the cashmere blanket. I was laid on what felt like a smooth, cushioned surface.

"Lean back and just fall asleep, my pet."

_Easier said than done._

After I began drifting off, the shuffling I heard earlier ceased. Feeling a sharp, painful prick in my forearm didn't startle or wake me; it caused me to fall deeper into the not longer intimidating black cloud.

_What are they up to now? Bet I'll be in for a surprise once they let me wake up…_

Amaury POV

The house, or mansion because of its size, is beyond words. The exterior is made from what looks like white stone. There are towers artfully placed, matching the large fountain in the driveway. The driveway is circular with an uneven marble tile pattern. You can drive into what looks like a place to drop off items incase it's raining. The roof is dark, navy blue and tiled. A well-nourished hedge surrounds a porch.

I loved it already, and I know that the rest of the family did as well.

"I call the tower!" Two of the four women claimed, along with Emmett. The three raced inside to find their "dream room". Raising his eyebrows at his wife and brother, he followed Mary Alice to join her quest of "getting the good room."

"May we have one of the rooms in the back of the house?" Isabella asked for herself and Edward, who nodded to agree.

"Of course. Go and pick one out," Esme lovingly replied, shooing them toward the house.

"Amaury, go ahead and pick one out; there are plenty of rooms to choose from. And here, this is the key to the circle room. I think that you'll like it," Esme explained.

I smiled and nodded, following her instructions.

There was a grand hall to enter once you stepped through the main entrance and front room. Esme must have already been here because the area was filled with beautifully place decorations. The hall's walls held paintings, some of my own, I noticed, astounded.

A winding marble staircase was before, urging me to climb up each individual step and unlock the mystery before me. Allowing that urge to guide me, I ended up in front of a black, oak door. The handle was copper and looked similar to Edward's hair. Chuckling, I turned the handle and stepped into the room that I am sure I'll be claiming.

The vocal point of the room was the bed. It sat on what looked like a dark brown wooden platter. The sheets were white, along with the silky, smooth floor. The back wall was black, as was the blanket on the king-size bed, the bedside tables, and the shag rug. A chandelier hung in the back of the room, bringing light to the dark space.

This room was like heaven for me. I placed my things on the bed and walked out of the room grinning.

Locating Esme and giving her a hug was to be in order.

I wondered the halls of my new home, figuring out where everything is and how to get there.

I still hadn't found the room that needed the key, so I went back to the front room and up the stairs. Down the hall form my room was a door that looked like blown glass. It was hidden perfectly.

The door was slightly sheer, but you weren't able to see through it, so it was like a piece of artwork on a wall. Loops were on it, making all the more stunning.

Unlocking the door, I stepped inside and looked around. The room was empty and a grey color, my art supplies not yet organized because they haven't arrived yet. The lighting will be ideal once I am able to hang the worthy paintings on the walls. The floor will be well used be the time it is time to move once more. I am sure that I'll be heartbroken to leave my already loved room behind.

Using my power, I know that Mary Alice will soon ask me to come downstairs because of a announcement that Carlisle and Esme are about to make, so I left my studio, locked the door, and make a mental note to find a necklace to put my key onto.

Treading down the spiral steps, I made my way into the dining room and sat beside Carlisle at the maple wood table.

"I hope that everyone loves the house," Carlisle began once everybody was seated.

Agreement was shared as we nodded and replied.

"Now, I know that we just got here, but tomorrow night we will be going to the ball at her Heiress's home," he went on, "Alice has already seen this and has bought clothing, correct?"

Alice nodded eagerly, grinning.

"Are there any questions? All right, that is all. You may go."

I went into my bedroom, and on the table was a leather thread for the key, courtesy of Mary Alice.

I wonder what will happen tomorrow. Well, I can find out, but the element of surprise is fun.

AN: Tried, seven hours writing this and it's awful. I apologize, but my head is in PAIN.

Review, Please.

.


	8. Questions and Answers AN

_**This isn't a chapter; sorry. Here will be all of the questions.**_

The questions:

What year is the story? Current time

There is no Reneesme (Sp?)? She wasn't ever born because it would mess up the plot.

Is Amaury mute? truely, no. he doesn't remember how to talk because he was mute when he was human.

Who is the Heiress? I don't know yet. still thinking might be James' or Victoria's distant family member

And why was Ivory there? For someone (male vampire, not animal-drinker)

But where is there...? Paris, France is where Ivory currently is. The Cullens are going there for the ball.

**Any other questions? Review or PM me ,and I'll PM you and update this "chapter".**

**Hope it helps,**

**Anna aka CTFWHE**


	9. Another Author's Note

**This isn't an update, but I have a new story up. Please read it and tell me what you think. Everyone that reviews gets a virtual Edward and cake!**

Love and EDs

Summary: Two people. Plagued by eating disorders: Mia and Ana. They don't fit in with others. But, can they fit in with each other? Or will Ana and Mia kill them both, first?

**Review; that cake isn't going to eat itself and Edward's lonely!**

***AnNa***


	10. Chapter 8:SilverCoated Disney Castle

Author's Note: Okay, this update came sooner than I thought that it would, but I guess that it wanted out of my head.

You guys will tell me if this chapter is crap, right?

Anyways, on with the story.

**Chapter Eight**

**Ivory Point of View**

"Ivory, you soon will be mine…" A smooth, velvet, distressing voice rang out in the black world of my dreams.

"What do you mean? I don't belong to anyone, and I never will!" I replied, venom injected deep inside of my fuming tone.

"My child, what I mean is none of your concern. All that you need to do is to look pretty tonight and behave. If you don't, there will be consequences," the sinister voice sang.

"What consequences? Why do I have to behave? Tell me, you devil!" My panicking and hateful words echoed, making the area around the voice and I seem endless.

"Was that behaving?" He was teasing me now. "I personally don't think so. Fortunately for you, I will let that one go. Next time you won't be as lucky." His voice echoed eerily as mine had, but his more baleful and minatory.

"Next time?" I question hesitantly.

"Yes, beautiful. Next time." Without any pause or delay, he answered firmly.

"Tell me your name?" I desperately wanted to put a name to the voice haunting my dream.

" Prince Kevn Delano Than Ambroise." The devil replied, a grin in his glossy, serene voice. "I would prefer if you would refer to me as Than instead of the devil in your mind, Ivory."

"How...how…do you... know what I'm thinking?" I stumbled clumsily over my words, attempting to execute my question clearly.

"I know more than you will ever know. Now I must go, and it's time for you to awake, darling."

"Wh...what?"

"Remember; behave. I hope that you are able to remember this. Voyez-vous ce soir, mon cherie. Rappelez-vous de se comporter." The creamy silk voice whispered, fading out as the last of the fluent, flawless French flew out of his devilish mouth. See you tonight, my dear. Remember to behave. 

A buttery chuckle escaped out of a black hole along with a final command of: "Rappelez-vous votre punition." Remember your punishment.

Light streamed into the darkness, illuminating the air and filling it with heat. Sound soon came afterwards, effectively shocking me out of thought about the conversation that I had with the devil, I mean Than.

_I hope he hadn't heard that. I have the feeling that he had…_

"Ivory, wake up, child. We've arrived, and it's just about time to walk inside." A new, unfamiliar voice spoke; smooth as all of the other voices I've heard for the past few days. My vision had begun to return to its normal state, but I felt a shoving on my right temple that hadn't been there before. My body was being rattled, as if I was an infant's toy.

"Careful, Philbert. She's a human, and we don't want her hurt before HE gets her." Calida scolded the giant that was leaning over me.

"Sorry, I forgot how fragile they are." Philbert, apparently, apologized, "I'm sorry, Ivory."

"It's alright, Philbert, I presume," I spoke in a surprisingly hoarse, dry voice, cringing at the sound of the foreign, alien voice.

"Yup. Philbert, I am, but you are welcome to call me Phil, if you'd like. Here, drink some," Phil handed me a glass of what I could only guess would be some alcoholic beverage. I took the half- empty glass into my trembling hands as a stab of pain went through my head, right over my right eye.

Growling in pain and discomfort, I laid back onto the seat of what I would guess would be a limo.

_It must be a new model; mom's didn't look like this on the inside._

I took a sip of the drink as the pressure on my delicate brain let up. As soon as the dark, expensive wine came in contact with my taste buds, the alcohol that went into my bloodstream roared, my brain exploding with the largest migraine that I'd ever felt. Both of my nimble hands flew upward, the glass of wine becoming air bound. Phil luckily caught the chalice before any of the content was splashed onto the ball gown that I'd realized I was clothed in during my severe migraine episode.

"Maybe next time it would be a good idea to use a different drug on her; for her body doesn't seem to agree with it." Phil commented as he swept he into his stone lap. For some strange and bewildering reason, it didn't feel awkward. His arms, about twice the width of one of my thighs, encircle me, gently rocking my body as the obvious driver drove on, not paying a speck of attention as a girl in the back writhes in pain.

_Maybe it's soundproof glass. _

"Shhh, Ivory, it's going to be alright. Just hold on for a minute," Phil muttered to me in a quiet, calming voice. To Calida, he almost silently asked," Are you sure that it's the drug that did this?"

"I wouldn't think so. The side effect shouldn't be head pain. Allow me to check."

Calida dialed a number onto a phone, I wasn't able to tell if it was her own or the limo's because my eyes were closed.

_Owwwww._

Another thick, bone-breaking wave of pain shot into my skull, causing me to moan softly.

Calida was having an urgent conversation by the sound of her tone. None of the words registered in my mind, the pain blocking all train of thought but one sentence, almost like a message for me.

_Rappelez-vous votre punition._

At that final thought, my body ultimately had enough, shutting down in order to battle the pain more effectively.

"She passed out. Crap," Phil said to Calida before I welcomed the blanket of black that stole the pain away.

_I hope that devils aren't allowed here…_

**Amaury Point of View**

The Cullens and I were ready for the ball. Mary Alice was earlier notified that it had become a masked ball, so she had to go and find new costumes and masks, much to her and Rosalie's extreme pleasure.

No one but I knew about the true reason of the ball, not even Alice or Carlisle. They were told that it was a birthday party for Prince Ambroise, planned by his "great, great aunt", Akuji Ebony Ambroise. Of course, no one was allowed to call her that but a few select members of the royal family; the others were forced to address her as "Her Heiress."

The main reason for the ball was well hidden, but if you were careful, you would find out that it was a celebration of the one hundredth anniversary of the start of

"Ambroise Human Selling, Trading, Transporting, and Grooming for the Vampire Community" also known as AHSTTGVP: a revolting and insulting organization that I was sure would be ended by the Voulturi.

After Mary Alice had purchased and handed out the clothing with detailed instructions on how to wear them correctly, we were ready to leave in the black polished stretch limo that was provided for us by her Heiress. It was about a three hour drive for a human that followed the traffic laws, but for us vampires, it was about an hour long trip going over one hundred miles per kilometer.

"Hold still, Emmett. I would have thought that after all of these years, you would be about to tie a bow tie CORRECTLY, but nope, you had it done wrong," Mary Alice playfully scolded Emmett with a grin.

Emmett growled humorously. "And what, my dear pixie sister, is the correct way to tie this annoying piece of cloth?!?"

"Well, Emmett, first you get the left end and make it four centimeters longer than the right end. Then you slip the short end under the longer end. Afterwards, use the buttons on the shirt as a reference point on how tight the tie will be. You slip the long end under the short end while holding the tie at the button to keep it loose enough as to not choke the living, or what's left that's living out of you!" She jested with an amused face as Emmett glared at her, thinking of a clever comeback.

"Pixie, just finish up the damn tie and quit acting like Tinkerbelle." He joked, proud of his comeback.

"Language, Emmett," Esme lightly scolded, trying to keep the grin off of her beautiful face as she watched her children quarrel.

"I'm sorry, Esme"

"Now, back to the tie tying. Zigzag the end on your chest. One fold is supposed to be in the wide part of the tie. Finish the zigzag...Emmett, why do you look like I'm trying to tell you how to find the perfect bra for your body type?!" Alice shrieked playfully, seeing what the effect of Emmett's look would cause.

"What was that, Alice, my dear sister?" Emmett questioned, playing innocent and unknowing.

"You know what!" She wailed, waving her small arms around after finishing his tie at vampire speed.

"Whatever do you mean, Alice?" He made the puppy dog pout, only Emmettized, as he had dubbed it.

"The pout! Yup, you're up to no good. The pout and your future just scream, 'Stop me! I'm about to do something that I know I shouldn't!' Emmett, don't you dare! If you touch the nail polish, I WILL put some on you, and it won't be on your nails!" The expression on both Emmett and Mary Alice's face was hilariously, bringing everyone but myself as close to tears as we can get as we roared with utter amusement. I did, however let out a few silent chuckles at their antics and behavior.

Apparently, Edward had told the others what Emmett's laughter-inducing plan was. Well, it would be quite comical to see Emmett going through Mary Alice's multiple closets with a pair of jumbo scissors, dressed as an old-fashion cat burglar and pretending to be Edward Scissorhands. Maybe it wouldn't be to Mary Alice, but still, I would want to watch the video that would be inevitably made.

Minutes and several unladylike phrases from Mary Alice later, we had stopped our uncontrollable laughing and were having the finishing touches placed on us by Mary Alice. We were all dressed in costumes, matching with our mate. Emmett was Beast, and Rosalie was Bell from Beauty and the Beast. Mary Alice was Tinkerbelle, and Jasper was Peter Pan, much to our amusement and Mary Alice's pleasure; he was wrapped around her little pixie finger. Isabella was Cinderella and Edward was the Prince. Esme was a fairy godmother, while Carlisle was a godfather. It was killing to see Jasper in tights and a tunic in this century. Lastly, I was put into a stylish and unDracula-like vampire costume. It was pretty much a completely black suit and a pair of fangs.

_At least there's no cape like Mary Alice had planned at first._

"Come on; we're here!" Rosalie exclaimed, laughing as we all jumped, knocked out of our thoughts and conversations. "Let's go inside."

"Yay! I can't wait!" Mary Alice was just as excited as ever; Jasper barely being able to contain his hyperactive wife.

"Is everyone ready?" Carlisle calmly questioned, observing everyone's responses with a toothy grin. "Alright, then let's go!"

_If only they knew the true reason for this ball…_

**Ivory Point of View**

I felt a gentle, subtle shift in temperature while I was being carried by Phil, I'm guessing, somewhere. Weak and worn-out from the previous migraine, I adjusted my head on his marble shoulder, moaning at the cold texture of his suit.

I opened up my eyes to look around, but all that I could see were blurry, unfocused shapes flying by us. It seemed as though we were flying through the air, but I passed that off as an effect of my fainting earlier. There were vibrant browns, greens, and blues. The wind was gelid, biting and nipping at my exposed skin. I had on a white, strapless ball gown. It was form fitting until the hips, where it flared out into a graceful tumble of white, silk cloth. On my feet were shiny gold ballet flats with a gold, ruffled flower on the front. They would be completely hidden by my dress once I stand up. I could feel how my hair was done. It was probably curled and clipped back with some kind of hair accessory.

A moment later, whoever was carrying me stopped running, slowing to a fast-paced walk. There were trees all around us; the sky not visible through the thick leaves on the colossal branches. We weren't walking on a path, but ahead of us, I could see a building of some kind, along with a large metal door placed in the center of it. We weren't, however, walking toward the door, but to the front of the fairytale-like building. It was like a replica of the Disney castle, but this one was coated in a metallic silver paint.

Curious as to why we weren't going toward the door, I turned to question the person that held me in their arms.

"Phil? Where are you taking me?" I asked the boulder carrying me, almost silently.

"Mon Cherie, I'm not Phil. Don't you remember who I am?" The velvet voice now had a face: a flawless, beautiful one. Although the beauty draws you in, something inside tells you to run, run far and fast, away from the dangerously beautiful creature. I couldn't run though right now, so that option was out. Screaming also wouldn't help, seeming as we were in the woods. Doing the next best thing, I decided to just shut up and wait to see what will happen.

Than walked toward the front of the awing castle, I'm sure, with me still held firmly in his arms. He was murmuring something to me, but I didn't hear it, for the sight in front of me was the most disturbing thing I've ever seen, and we were going straight towards it.

_Please….no…..please…anything but this….._

**Author's note: I am finished at 1: 26 am. Yay!!!!!!!!!!!!! But stupid fanfiction wouldn't let me upload and post it last night.-tear-  
**

**Enjoy, and PLEASE REVIEW!!!!!**


	11. Chapter 9:Little Posy and Unfocused Form

Music for chapter: Open up a youtube window and copy/paste" Listen to the rain- Evanescence "into the search line, please. Listen to it as many times as you need for most of the chapter. It fits a lot of it perfectly, but not all of the chapter.

**Author's Note: Okay, I felt like giving my loyal readers the answer to what was so disturbing to Ivory. Actually, right now I have no idea what was disturbing. I am thinking about it right now, as I type up Amaury's point of view. **

**I also need someone to make me a play list with what they think could be the song for each chapter on it! (Kind of like a soundtrack) If anyone does this for me, then they will become a fairly important character in whichever story of mine that they choose.**

**This chapter is for finger craker, who gave me a small part of my story and listened to my babbling. I 3 you, right now, my Canadian friend! ;)**

**Thanks! **

**(It's only part of it, but there is a * by it [the rest will be in the next chapter])**

**Also many thanks to .we. love. the. cheesey. Got to love that one! ;) Check her out!  
**

**I might write more for my super-short story, Homeless. I have a few ideas that I will share with finger craker later, once I finish both of my stories. Go or no: what do you think? It will be an Alice story. **

**(my first one)**

**Disclaimer: **_**thoughts **_**words **sign language

Anna**: Hey, Amaury, do you think that Stephenie Meyer will ****give me the rights to ****Twilight****? **

Amaury**: -blank stare-**

Anna**: **_Let's try this a different way. _Will Stephenie Meyer give me the rights to Twilight?

Amaury: Only if she gives the rights to all of the other obsessive Twilight fan fiction writers.

Anna: So it that a no?

Amaury: _No comment._

Sorry about how late this is! I'm on vacation, and I haven't had time or inspiration.

_Warning: Slight suggestive humor in this chapter. Beware, all that aren't supposed to be reading this. There is a reason that this is rated teen, and not k+._

Beginning of Chapter 9-- Beginning of Chapter 9-- Beginning of Chapter 9-- Beginning of Chapter 9—

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**Amaury Point of View**

Once we all had nimbly stepped out of the sheen, black limo, we were greeted apace by a thewy-looking female vampire by the name of Adelyn Ambroise, who quickly escorted us inside of the towering, silver veneered, castle-like structure. Each and every hoary stone in the aged cobblestone path, I could clearly feel through my black, patented leather, dress shoes.

As we easily walked through the already opened brass doors and over the thick threshold, I was able to hear classical music being played by a live, all-human orchestra. How did I know that it was all human? Their heartbeats were thunderous and unavoidably apparent to any and every vampire within a half-mile radius.

We were led toward the grand staircase. The luxurious, red velvet, millions of karats of gold for the handrails, white marble steps, and diamond detailing on the golden roses that were scattered artfully around the narrow rail would have stunned any artist, such as myself, at the simple, yet staggering beauty of it all.

While we gradually descended down the small steps, I took the time to closely study the large, dimly lit room. There was a deep, blood red ceiling, the lights making it seem as though it blended in with the black, inky walls. The sure-to-be-expensive flooring was a smooth, cherry tree hardwood floor; like a mirror, it reflected every creature above it beautifully.

Walking at a human's agonizingly slow pace, we had only treaded down one-half of the elegant staircase. As we approached two-thirds of the way down, the unaustere, classical music halted abruptly, halfway through Mozart's Moonlight Sonata. Curious about the cause of the jerky, uncalled-for finish, I shut my amber eyes, giving into my power wholly for the time being.

Instead of the usual worded answer, I saw a video-like vision, complete with perspicuous audio and high definition. I had a strong feeling that this would not be anything like the answer that I was looking for, but I watched it anyways.

"**Mon Cherie, I'm not Phil. Don't you remember who I am?"** **A silky voice said to the willowy figure in his arms.**

**The two were in a vast forest: the one to the left of the grand castle that contained the tasteful ballroom full of guests. They were not on a man-made path; they had just run there from the stretch limo that the bedimmed figure was inside of earlier. **

**I could clearly see the vampire-perfect features of the man: full, pale lips; white, creamy skin; masculine, yet neat eyebrows, perfectly matching his dark, thick hair. His cheekbones were defined, cheeks slightly sunken in. His form was svelte, yet muscular; it was apparent through his chauffer costume. As he spoke to the figure that he carried, his burgundy, dangerous eyes would intensify every word that escaped his dangerous lips. **

**He quietly whispered a few meaningless words that were supposed to be soothing to the unidentified shape in his arms, but I got the feeling that it wasn't listening.**

_**Please….no….please….anything but this………**_ **I heard a monotone voice plead.**

The vision was cut off then, allowing me to process the visual information to a full extent.

_That was odd. Why was I not able to see any of the form's body or hear her voice? I could see the figure's clothing and hear what she either said or had thought_.

I had determined that it was a female because of the breathtaking ball gown that she wore.

_I'm sure even Mary Alice wouldn't have thought about this wonderful dress in her dreams. *_

I brought myself out of that random thought, spending so much time around fashion-obsessed females was doing me more bad then good.

_Is something wrong with me, or is she a shield like Isabella? If she is a shield, then she must be much more powerful than Edward's wife's shield._

For some unknown and strange reason, I didn't even think about beginning to merely consider that she was a human before.

_Why would he be carrying her if she were a vampire? Maybe it was a romantic moment between a chauffer and a rich woman?_

She's not a vampire; she's a human. My zany, anomalous mind told me.

_Well, that would explain the carrying part, but_ _what was the last part of the vision? Were they thoughts, words, or some inner_ _communication?_

Carlisle placed a firm, yet gentle hand on top of my suit- covered shoulder, gesturing silently for me to continue to walk forward. I must have stopped walking while I was so deep in my thoughts. Casting an apologetic smile over to him, I shook my head softly in order to fully return to reality and our Adam's ale- covered planet, Earth.

We were now at the very bottom of the aesthetic staircase; a female vampire that I knew was the Heiress herself flew recklessly toward us, the dense crowd opening a path for her like the sea did for Moses not all that long ago.

_This is bound to be fun. _I sneered internally at the scantily clothed woman barreling foolishly at us.

"Carlisle!!!" She screeched in an abysmal, high-pitched voice, "You are here, and you brought your little posy with you!" The attention of most of the people around us became attracted to the annoying voice of the horrid woman latching onto our father.

"Yes, this is my family," He began, uneasily removing her bare arms from around his neck after a brief, awkward embrace between the two. Slipping an arm around Emse's small waist, Carlisle introduced "the posy", as the Heiress all so intelligently dubbed us.

"These are my children: Alice, Jasper, Emmett, Rosalie, Bella, Edward, and Amaury. The stunning woman in my arms is Esme, my wife." He finished, gazing with immeasurable love into Esme's golden eyes.

"It's a pleasure to meet all of you," She answered pointingly, trying and failing to get Carlisle's attention.

_Is she hitting on Carlisle, even after he introduced his __**wife**__?!?!?_ I'm sure that all of my siblings were thinking the same thing as I, or at least had the same general idea.

"It's a pleasure to have been invited to you nephew's birthday celebration. Whoever had set it up has done a superb job," Carlisle replied smoothly, still firmly attached to his wife, eyes not daring to glaze anywhere but into his mate's own butterscotch eyes.

"I'll be sure to tell Kamila how wonderfully she did," she dismissed in a rushed and hurried, squeaky voice. "Now we need to catch up, Carlisle. Your little family group, here, can go to do as they please." Tugging Carlisle away from us in a childish and annoying manner toward the lounging area on the opposite side of the grand ballroom, she prattled on to him cheerfully, ignorant about his obvious discomfort.

Once they were slightly out of hearing distance, all of us improperly burst out in uncontrollable laughter from both the look on Carlisle's face as he was abducted and her Heiress' puerile actions. Esme, in all of her shining, godmother glory, was bent over, her motherly frame shaking with wild, untamed laughing. I, myself, was chuckling mentally, my face radiating amusement at the mirthful situation in hand.

Carlisle's humorous reaction was too inane to be able to resist detonating in silent laughter.

Jasper's mildly controlled sniggering held a rich, southern accent, blending harmonically with Emmett's deep, booming hysterics and Edward's entertained chuckling. Esme's amusement in seeing her devoted husband in such a silly and trivial predicament caused several intervals of cackling to escape from her maternal form. Mary Alice giggled at the sight before her: Rosalie agreeing with her own bright laughter. Isabella twinkled at her family's reaction to the event, her giggling, combining with the others' to orchestrate a sonata of gracefully musical laughter.

Stumbling idiotically and melodramatically against one another in a futile attempt to discontinue our laughter, we attracted multiple curious glances from the people around us once again.

_People need to learn to control their curiosity and stop staring. Haven't they been taught that it's rude?_

Jasper was the fist to sober up enough to rise fluidly from his position of leaning on the Beast's burly arm. It must have been a sight to the ill-bred personages surrounding our chattering forms: A blond fairy nearly completely draped on top of a brown, furry man. Nominally chuckling, he exclaimed that he wished he had a camera, although our consummate memory would serve the sole purpose much better. That witless, but hysteria-triggering comment sent us straight into another violent fit of laughter.

_That expression on Carlisle's face will always be imprinted in my mind._ I thought with am inward howl of amusement.

"Do you want to rescue him yet? Because I think that he has been tortured enough for today," Isabella questioned as she peered at the poor, old man that she saw as a father figure.

"Alright, let's go save him before she drags him into the forest alone," Esme giggled before scowling at the prospect of that idea.

_Ewww._ I know that all eight of us had the same thing running through our minds without the help of any gift.

"I have an idea!" Mary Alice practically _squealed_ into my sensitive and intuitive ear from her abutting position beside her fairy of a husband. Only someone as loyal to their mate as he was would dress up in tights and a tunic. "And I've seen that it will work perfectly!"

Edward and I beheld her warily while Jasper, the tight, tunic fellow, made an unsuccessful attempt at calming her bouncing form long enough so that she could share her 'flawless idea'. Glancing slightly to the left out of my peripheral vision, I saw that Emmett, too, had an adrenalized expression on his fuzzy face as well. Quite a anomalous sight: imagine a mammoth of a grizzly bear grinning madly and bouncing nearly as much as the hyperactive pixie beside him, less than half of his towering height. They must have given the espresso machine a whirl together while we weren't paying attention to every move that they made, otherwise, I am not sure where they had gotten this strong blast of overly concentrated energy. Someone needs to go and dilute it somehow.

"What do you suppose we should do?" Esme questioned, her tone polite and calming, but her eyes animated about what we were about to do.

Mary Alice, still jumping up and down like the energizer bunny disguised as a pixie that she is, was not able to elucidate her supposedly- inerrant postulation properly, so she simply allowed her vision to run through her psychic mind, permitting Edward to view and evince it for her.

Edward spoke breathlessly, laughing as he described what we were going to do to get "Mission Frustration" into action.

Smirks took purchase on our pale, illuminated from joy faces, leaving us a group of what seemed to look like psychopath vampires leering as though there would be no tomorrow.

I was sincerely hoping that no one was going to admit us into a mental hospital for "saving our father from the 'hoe lady' using our 'super special, sexual frustration forces'". Then again, if I were they, I wouldn't think twice about calling for eight straight jackets and a sterile, padded room for each of us.

_If Mary Alice's straight jacket was polyester, then someone would be sure to get an earful of her lecture on the importance of comfortable, hypoallergenic fabrics for 'the mental unstable population and peeps of all and sundry'. _

"'Mission Frustration' is initiated. Does everyone have a foil, square thingie and funky hand lotion?"

_I would gladly take the jacket instead of holding, as Emmett so intelligently explained it, a ' foil, square thingie and funky hand lotion'. _

_God, save me now?_

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**Ivory Point of View**

Than's marble, white arms held me gently; the unpliable skin and adamantine muscles dug forcefully into my delicate and weak body. Indubitably, there will be moderate ecchymosed, or bruising. My diaphanous skin is not thick enough to protect the fragile bones that make up my skeleton and hold me upright.

Every sizable rock, thickset branch, and protruding stump jolted me no matter how gracefully Than treaded through the vast forest.

I was frozen instantly, as though a vault of liquid nitrogen was poured unmercifully over my scarcely clothed form, in unmitigated fear of the hollowing sight before us. Never have I wanted to do anything of the sort, but now I do not have all that much of a choice.

Wide-eyed and uncomfortably tense, I was still gripped in his inhumanly strong arms that must soon falter in order for him to be human, pressed adamantly against his lanky, yet toned chest. He ran a large, masculine, creamy-smooth palm over my miniscule face, beginning at my left temple, grazing slowly along my defined, feminine jaw line, and ending by cupping my ivory cheek, as a lover would do. But he was not my lover; there was every emotion but love in me when I was in his eminent presence.

I felt frightened and squeamish when I looked into his ruby- coloured eyes, not immerged in happiness and content, as I should have been. When he held me, there was no spark, tingle or love. There was fear, anyhow; not fear on whether or not he would drop me because I know that he is strong enough to be able to withstand my small weight, but fear of where he would take me.

When he skimmed his hand along my face, there was no love radiating from him; there was, having said that, a feeling of emanating ownership coming from him. Kind of like when you get a new toy and don't want to let anyone touch it, even if you're not playing with it. That is how I feel; I feel like the devil's toy, but he hasn't taken me out of my packaging yet. I am unopened, still mainly pure and only slightly am I altered. He has not gotten me out of my box yet, but that doesn't mean that he can't admire me and show me off to all of his sure-to-be-jealous friends.

That's why I am here, I concluded: in a ball gown, all groomed and 'fixed'. I am going to be shown off like a new car that someone would be riding purely for the purpose of seeing the looks of adoration and jealously in others' expression, not to travel from one place to another for a cogent and bona fide reason.

He must have felt no sympathy for me, not caring about my own wishes and desires; doing this for only his own benefit while I shatter in fear of being poked and examined by everyone around me, as I have been forced to endure many times before at a multitude of social functions for my parents. I would have every flaw and blemish discussed and sneered at while I was expected to mingle and converse with people that don't care a bit for my feelings and I.

_Do you really not care that much?_ I asked Than silently, not meaning for him to be able to hear me, or answer my rhetorical question.

"Of course I care about you, my pet," he riposted in his alluring voice. Although he may have concealed the lie well beneath his handsome reply, I saw through it immediately, having been lied to my face for all of my life. It was strange how he could answer my thoughts, but I could not figure out any reasonable explanation as to why that is, and I was not about to dare to ask him that, myself.

Anger erupted dangerously below the strong surface of my carefully- built mask of understanding and indifference, but I held it back, reminding myself of our polarity of physical strength.

As we neared the large entrance to the grand, castle-like structure, all traces of the anger that I felt earlier dissolved; it was soon replaced by fear and dread anew: so much consternation that I was drowning in it, panicking and unable to move any involuntary muscle. My heart sped up; the once-steady pulse becoming frantic and uneven. Spots of black fogged up my vision, apprising me that if I did not calm down soon, I would surely pass out. At the sudden knowledge that there would be an almost non-existent chance of Than carrying a limp, ghostly body into a room full of unsuspecting and gossiping people, allowing me to not have to endure the cruel stares of the souls inside, I did not take any part of willingly aiming to slow my raging heartbeat. Before the cloud of relief took me captive, I saw Than's devilish eyes. They were mostly occupied by a large amount of annoyance, but held a small hint of concern in them. I didn't have a final thought before I surrendered to my new best friend and savior, unconsciousness, but if I did have one, it would have been one that would make his perfect jaw drop open in complete and utterly raw surprise.

I giggled faintly at the prospect, as I leaped off of the steep cliff of consciousness, leaving Than, the beautiful people, and all of my worries there, staring at my bony, bruised backside and hearing the content sigh as I abandoned them. God wasn't my savior; sleep was, and I wouldn't have it any other way.

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**Jasper Point of View **

**(Requested by someone who voted on my poll earlier)**

"'Mission Frustration' is initiated. Does everyone have a foil, square thingie and funky hand lotion?" Emmett virtually sang in his deeply enlivened voice.

There was joy seeping from every no longer alive pore on both Emmett's and Alice's bodies while the rest of us were staring at Emmett with a look of incredible awe because of the way that he described the 'thingies' that he was passing out to us. Emmett, nor Alice's grin faltered as my wife still hadn't refrained from her usual bouncing and hyper behavior; we were so stunned, that we were all speechless and immobile.

_Doesn't he mean condoms and body oil?_

Edward snickered knowingly, after nodding toward me and evincing that he had heard my silent question, at Emmett along with the others.

"Okay, who wants box seats to watch the show in?" I asked the family. In unabridged sooth, the actual question was whether someone wanted to go with me to save Carlisle from the heinous Heiress.

No one answered me right away, their emotions told me that they were sorry, but they didn't want to get involved to that degree. As I was about to turn and officially begin operation 'Mission Frustration', I heard Esme walk toward me with her familiar zestful stride. She whispered that she had a plan and wanted to go with me to save her distressed husband.

I agreed immediately after she had explained her devious plan. I took her by her elbow and together we walked to save her husband, leaving the rest of our family gapping at what they had heard us discuss. An unforeseen thought popped unexpectedly into my head, causing me to grin and incorporating a bounce to my step that only something as amusing as that was, could.

_Pumped up Peter Pan and puffy God momma are coming to rescue you, you uncantankerous, unsenescented God dada._

An uncharacteristically loud howl of laughter erupted behind us, only adding to my excitement.

_Let's go sexually frustrated the hoe lady._

(Please ignore)

**Author's Note: You know what? I am NOT going to try to force the rest of this chapter out of me. Once I get back into my writing groove, I will post the rest of it. This is really hard to write if I have no inspiration. You can't force these things and expect perfect results. I am sorry, but I write better under stress: which it something that I lack at the moment. Once school starts for me, you can expect weekly updates instead of this chapter that has taken me a month to write. It is not that good either, is it? I am so sorry that I am not going to ask you to review this chapter. Yup, it is that bad.**

(Ignore the message above; it was just I letting out steam. The main idea was that I need more stress to properly write stories. I write better under pressure. That's how I vent.)

The update will be in about a month unless I give birth to a brilliant idea earlier then expected.

Sorry for the self-promoting, but I have a blog for this story. The link is on my profile at the very top. It will have teasers, update updates, and you will be able to comment and tell me what you want to see in this or any other story. I read every comment. Just leave a way to contact you or your screen name for fan fiction . net. Merci!


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